Minecraft: Journal Xib
by Wolfzen Skiigh
Summary: The tales of a new soul within the world of Minecraft, a daring escapade of discovery and adventure and self realization with plenty of humor and detail, emotion and Time. Step into the diary of an alien and his narration of an adventure of mystery.
1. 8th

Journal – Xib

By Nathaniel Schrader

[]

8th

I'm not sure what to write, haha. It's taken me days to figure out how this place works, a week and a day, and now that I have my own book to record my life in… I'm not even sure what to say. Starting at the first day would be best… to explain this all.

Upon the first moment of my awakening, I realized that there was something very wrong. The world was made of cubes, blocks. The sky overhead gave way to clouds of squares, composed of patterns entirely unbelievable, the sun itself a simple polygon with only four sides. Everything in the world was… is… here in this place, made of cubes. Rock, gravel, dirt, the trees, the _leaves_ on the trees… everything is composed of blocks! My own person, even, is currently nothing more than a set of blocks. Every joint bends as if breaking away, but no pain is had, nothing to signify my decomposition or signs of injury. I feel normal, yet I know that this is far from the case. I cannot remember how I came to be, or anything of my past. I simply know that I awoke upon a beach, within a small bay, a mountain composed of multiple types of visible blocks to the north.

When I first awoke, I was not sure what to do, and I really am not still, but regardless… I could only remember my name. Xib. That is all I could truly remember… that and that I am a Xi. Only my name and the name of my species… that's all I had, upon first opening my eyes. My hands dug slightly into the sand, like a resistant fluid that simply gave way temporarily. As I gained composure, I dragged my claw across the sand, nails digging into the soft ground. The sand cracked, nearly all around as if part of a solid object! I immediately took my hand back, sitting up and falling quickly onto my butt as I sat, gazing at the world before me. Blocks… jagged, solid, radical… blocks, everywhere, beyond the blocky hills and, behind me, making up a blocky island, made of blocky sand and grass and dirt. What had happened to me? I thought.

The first thing I did, naturally coming to me as a creature used to climbing up black cliff sides made of obsidian and ash, was climb. I dug my claws into the dirt wall near me, composing a gently-sloped mountain, reaching a peak of grass, sprinkled with trees. Observing the plains beyond and the mountains beyond them, dotted with oak trees and a few birch trees, there was a world of unspeakable, uncertain beauty. I could not understand why… but I felt compelled to explore. But first, my sane mind reaching a pinnacle of acknowledgement… I realized that I had not known what trees were. Somehow, someway, I simply knew what a tree was and what classified it further. Back on Xivsus, there were no trees, and there wasn't gree grass, and there certainly wasn't a blue sky or vast ocean with soft sand but… I knew what all these things in this place were.

Quite simply, horror set into my mind. I had no idea where I was, I could not remember anything, knowing about things I was sure I had never seen before, and there were terrible pink monsters everywhere. They oinked at me, snorting, like fat rolls of mutilated flesh, without shell or protection. I quickly tore one of their cube-heads off and threw it away as it faded into a red mist, simply vanishing as two objects _popped_ out of its corpse, two "raw porkchops," as the voice in my head said. I fell back up against a tree, terrified by the phantom meats and the lack of a carcass. I was so uneager yet curious; it was maddening! Eventually, I brought myself close to them. Almost by magic, the two units of meat came at me and faded into my being. I was panicked and felt my carapace all over, terrified that the meats were going to burrow out of my being like horrid parasites. They did not, much to my prolonged terror.

I'll admit… I wandered around stupidly for hours. Soon, however, I found my first cave, a gaping hole in the earth that simply did not make sense to be there. Gazing into the abyss… I realized that I was better off avoiding dark places. I noticed movement from within, and a humanoid shape, moving about and groaning. The word "humanoid" made little sense to me, even though I knew the definition and the implication, but I also knew that I cared not to venture into such dreaded places. The creature met my eyes, its hollow black holes in its head as foul as the drooling mouth below. I quickly left. Retreating back to the place I had awoken, I found myself with a sun nigh to resting, approaching a peach-colored horizon. Fear overwhelmed me. I could not understand why, but I knew that light was my friend in this wretched place. I quickly tore into the side of the same mountain I had climbed earlier, my claws cracking and removing the dirt as it broke away in blocks. The pieces piled into me, disappearing as the meats had, but I wasn't in the mood to care to understand how that worked.

My vision was dark as I felt a new material against my hands, solid rock in my way, simple and gray in color. I recoiled as my claws scratched it, and yet it did not hurt. In examining my hand for injury, I was perplexed by a simple square on the top of my hand, hollow and light. It gave off no light, but it was very visible and semi-transparent. On my other hand was another square, identical. I looked between the two, finally tapping the one on my right hand. A grid of nine total squares emerged around it, appearing in front of my face and slightly to the right, composed of the same light, framing squares, the upper left and two occupied. One contained those porkchops I had obtained, a small number "2" in the same square. In the next one over were the dirt blocks, a number "22" within the range of the cell. So this is where they went! I believed it quickly enough as I selected the dirt blocks with a twitch of mental thought, the blocks appearing in my hand! They were small as I held them, but, as I tried placing them on the ground behind me, they resumed their normal size. I was bewildered, but glad somehow. I placed the blocks over the entrance into the dirt tunnel I had made, sealing me from the outside world. It was pitch black and quiet, but I could see slightly and I felt immensely safer. Before I knew it, I felt myself falling asleep.

In short, I learned quickly of staying in seclusion. It was a lot safer. The next day, I encountered ghastly creatures, like "spiders" amongst the places I had visited, clinging to the darkness. They would not attack, and I had no intention on attacking them, either, but I knew that they were dangerous. It was the way they looked at me walk past them. No… It was when I saw another, entirely profane creature when I realized that the light was my close partner. Four legs, standing tall… green and sharp, dotted with pale mint and gray colors… and a face. Not just a normal face, I mean the creature I had seen in the crevice had a face, too, but… no. Not like this. It looked as though it was in a state of perpetual sorrow, eyes wide open, its mouth curved downward in a crooked scowl of sadness. I did not let it see me, for the haunted feeling in my heart told me to avoid it. I did so without question.

Knowing of the ability of my right hand, I tested the left. 3 sets of grids, composed of 9 squares each, appeared in front of me, empty. Above them and to the upper left were an empty four, and to the right and above was a simple 2x2 box with another off to the right. I wasn't sure what this was, but I felt that the 3 sets were storage, and the upper left set was something yet unknown. The upper right… seemed rather important, I could say. I could not place the feeling, but I felt almost one of destiny as I glazed over it with a finger. They were vital somehow.

It was not until my dreams during a nap later on that bequeathed me a great secret. I envisioned a tree. I awoke, simply confused by the strange illusion. I wondered if it was because I napped under a tree that sparked the reason for the dream, but I had a feeling that there was something more. My hand brushing the oak for a moment, I began to claw at it painlessly as the tree block cracked. Eventually, it broke, just like everything else, and, almost shocking me, the rest of the tree simply hovered, even with a part of its base missing. I had noticed a similar occurrence earlier with dirt; gravity was a fickle theory on this planet. I persevered in pummeling the trunk until I had the entire collection of wood in my collection. Gradually, the blocks composed of leaves simply vanished, sometimes dropping a "sapling." I gathered up everything I could and brought the wood from my "Active Inventory" ( my right hand's ability, as I shall call it from now on ) and into the storage of my "Passive Inventory" ( AI and PI, my left hand's ability, as they shall be referred to ). I tested the storage, making sure I was correct ( turned out I was ), and then tested the line of squares in the upper left. Seemingly, I could not place the wood blocks into this set. However, when placed into the 2x2 grid, I found a most exciting revelation! As I place the stack of wood blocks into the grid, a new block appeared in the "result" box, "wooden planks." I was so excited and curious, I took the planks out, taking as many as I could until the wood ran out. Each wood created 4 of these new "planks," and I now totaled at 20 wooden planks. This "crafting grid" allowed me to create new objects by placing items into it, and I was now thrilled. I immediately shoved my wooden planks into the grid, only to find the result square empty. Intrigued, I fiddled with it, filling the different places within the grid with the planks. Eventually, and to my great joy, a new object created upon filling the entire grid with wooden planks, a "crafting table."

I'd continue on here but I'm afraid that the sun is setting for now. I'll resume this later, when I reach home.

-X


	2. 8th Dusk

Journal – Xib

By Nathaniel Schrader

[]

8th – Dusk

Alright, back. Separate entry. Better organization, I think. Here I am, writing by candlelight atop my tower, reclining on my bed in the garden… I must say… I'm loving my life on this strange world.

Right… let's see. I left off at the bit about the crafting table I could make. I created it, then set it down, adorned with simple tools and an interesting 3x3 grid on the top surface. Upon touching it, a crafting grid, just like my own, sprang out in front of me from the tabletop, except this was 3x3 instead of the 2x2. Suddenly, I felt almost free, like I had complete and utter control over this world. I regained my standard state of fear when one of those Pork Monsters bumped against me and snorted at me. I slapped it away and investigated the grid further. 3x3 grid and a Product Zone… what to make? I bothered it for a long time, figuring out how to make wooden slabs, wooden pressure plates, chests, sticks, and, most importantly, tools with the sticks and wooden planks. I crafted a mining pick quickly, idealistically excited about gathering some stone, though a little off put by the thought of mining with a stick of wood, and began breaking rock down. It was much faster than using my hands when I had first scratched up against it with my claws, and, oddly, resulted in dropping a single unit of cobblestone. The block was very interesting as I placed it, a fine selection of stones cemented together. I like cobblestone. I hollowed out a nearby cliff, boring right through it, gaining over 128 units of cobblestone. I noticed that, oddly, items would only stack up to a limit of 64 units per storage square, both in my AI and PI. I could not understand why this was until later on, but we'll get to that. With cobblestone, I found out how to make stone slabs, stone tools ( much to my pleasure ), and furnaces. I didn't really need a furnace, but I regarded it fondly as an item to assist me in the future.

Nearly overwhelmed, I couldn't think of where to start, not until I slept again inside my hollowed cave again. I dreamt of my tower from home, a beautiful spire of obsidian chunks and volcanic, jagged rocks, filled with knowledge and pleasure, both high above and far below the ground's, ending in floors in both extremes of height and depth. When I awoke, I scrambled through my inventory, only to find cobblestone. To my dismay, I was unaware of how to obtain obsidian, or any dark, fine rock. However… I had cobblestone and wood. Looking to the island not far away, only a half dozen meters from my reach, I knew what I wanted to do. I scaled the island with a shovel in one hand, axe in line for use, and terraformed the island to my needs. I first removed the trees, scaling up them with stacks of dirt and jumping up leaves, some monstrous in size, then removed the odd shape of the island from the top, making it flat at a certain height. Glorious, I thought.

Next, I laid out a 12x12 flat of cobblestone, the foundation for my home. I was not aware of the lack of standard physics, but it made me feel better to do things right. After that, I processed all of my wood into planks and, erecting a skeletal frame of cobblestone at the corners and as two pillars on each side, going straight up, I filled in the walls with wooden planks. I was stuck at the transport from floor to floor, and the sun was going down when I finished placing the wood around the first floor. Proudly, I sealed myself within my home, filling in the empty doorways with dirt walls. With a torch by my side, not unlike how I am whilst I write this, I curiously poked around with the crafting table and its grid. After an hour or so, I found out how to make stairs out of both wooden planks and cobblestone! I was very excited. Quickly after, I found out how to make doors. The night was splendid, even if there were terrible beasts not more than past the walls that kept me safe. Alone, in the dark, looking up through the unfinished ceiling at the stars, I fell asleep.

I woke up the next day and continued my work, ignoring the vile green creatures back on the mainland, investigating nothing in particular but looking awfully busy with their creeping about. Soon enough, I found myself with a finished first floor, the ceiling cobble and the edges of the room filled with eight large chests. Double the size of normal boxes, I could store up to 54 items inside. I was enraptured with glee at my new, massive storage floor. Working up, I created a room above me, composed of two stories instead of one, and made the walls partly out of giant windows, perfect for watching the horizon. I put 8 furnaces alongside the walls in this room in total, starting to appreciate their usefulness as "stone smelters," as I found out. I could restore cobble to its prior form of solid stone by melting it back together in a furnace, and it was a very interesting addition to my inventory. My fuel source was currently coal, as I had plenty of it from burrowing into mountains, but I had discovered I could create charcoal by placing unprocessed wood into a furnace. Charcoal seems to have the same ability as coal; I regard this information kindly, in case I run out of coal and have to resort to creating my own fuel sources.

I digress. I continued upward, using cobblestone stairs to reach the top of the room and expanding further. I quickly assembled a cobblestone skeleton for the room, knowing exactly what I wanted in it. It was another room two stories in size, and I intended to make it perfect.

Safely storing what I did not want to lose, and so that I would have enough room to carry everything I needed, I set out towards the shore I had awoken on. Shovel in hand, I tunneled my way into the sand banks, digging deep down. With over 256 units of sand, I found myself in a large pit. Although a bit hesitant to dig any further, I observed an interesting, dully glittering material mixed in with the rock, its own block. It was an ore, I was sure. Glad I had brought a stone pick along, I broke away every bit of the material, nearly humbled by my find. Iron! I had found iron! Joyously, I quickly scrambled out of the sand pit and made my home, wading through the bay waters and climbing back onto my island, opening and shutting the door and finding myself on the second floor before I could think of much else. I only had a few units of iron ore, 6 in total, but I was still excited. I smelted it, holding the iron ingots in my hands with the first real smile I had expressed in a long time. I crafted them into an iron pick and iron woodcutting axe, leaving myself with no spare iron but gorgeously useful tools. The pick tore through cobblestone like glass, and the axe devastated wooden materials effortlessly, bringing much pleasure to my heart.

Almost forgetting my newly acquired sand, I spotted the beach that I had devastated and remembered. I poured everything I had obtained into my furnaces and waited whilst they melted the sand, looking over my goods and cleaning out my AI and PI, organizing everything. Once the furnaces stopped, I excitedly clasped my hands around the first block of glass I had ever made. It was a perfect sheen of beauty, a pure block of transparent delight, yet… for the first time, in its partial reflection, I saw myself. My heart raced as I set the block within my AI; I was afraid to look at my own person. I could not begin to explain why, but… I did not want to see what I had become, according to this world and its strange ways…

Although… I guess I can't remember what I looked like before, anyway. Looking back at the glass in my AI, I could only grasp a basic image of my people. Tall, standing on two legs, bearing two arms… black shells, outline in color according to blood… five clawed fingers on each hand, three clawed toes on each foot… antenna like feathers for listening… simple stuff. But… I couldn't remember it all. Isolated, utterly alone in the quiet house I had made, sitting on the stairs… I'll freely admit, I wept. I could not… can not, remember anything from the past. Only vague memories swim around, unwillingly used and unhelpful as they squirm out of my reach. Sitting within this lonely house, from only a few days ago, I could not feel anything but self-pity. I was stranded and alone, with nothing for company but horrid monsters and meat beasts. I did not hunger or thirst, and I even felt restless at times, only feeling sleepy when I laid down to rest my mind.

Eventually, I managed to pull myself together. I filled in the panes I had left empty, erecting vast windows in the walls. There I was, looking back from within the perfectly sheen, material. Red eyes, gold markings, black and sharp, beastly… it was comforting to see myself. Where I had gotten the brown cloth pants and gray belt, though… I had no idea. I was wearing them when I woke up, but I do not mind them; I think they are fitting, plus comfortable to boot. Anyway, I gathered myself and filled the roof's panes with glass, creating a dome of glass with fenced in walls on the lower level of the floor, a recipe I had learned due to my curiosity. The fences added a splendid feeling of openness to the roof, the warm air gushing through pleasantly but not roughly. I debated about reversing it, removing the glass from the top layer's wall and glassing the lower layer… but removing the material was a chore, even for my painfully bored self. I decided it was merely an aesthetic regret, and that I would take care of it on a nice day when I had nothing else to do.

For a while, I was not sure how to make a sufficient resting apparatus. I tried a combination of porkchops and cobblestone, even solid stone, as well as stuffing saplings and flowers into the crafting grid with dirt, but I received no result from any of my attempts. In short summary of what I found to be an answer, I had found furry mammals with much fluff, most of them white but a few different shades of monochrome, the word "sheep" coming to mind. I could only obtain a few units of "wool," the material that so grows upon them, their hair, as it were. Upon their slaying, they dropped a single unit of whatever color of wool they had, and I was sure I was doing something wrong. I avoided the question, gathering up at least four units of white wool from a herd of the creatures. Interestingly, beds are very similar but nigh mirrored on this world opposed to mine; cloth matter and wood. On my home planet, they were made of wrapped animal meats or vegetation, dried and packed into leather sacks to lie on, and supported by carved rock, or a study floor. Strange, how the shape is similar, but I don't mind it or care; beds on this world are very nice and comfy, and I enjoy them.

Well… looking over this entry, I'd say it's long enough. Though this book is big, there's no need to drag on this day of writing. I'll resume my entries soon, Journal. I'm only glad that books are easier to make on this world than they were on my home planet.

I'll write soon, my blank friend, and I shall soon have a full book of memories to read over during my enigmatic life on this mysterious world. Until then:

-X


	3. 9th Through 13th

Journal – Xib

By Nathaniel Schrader

[]

9th

For the time being, I think I'll write about my life on this world up until now. Don't worry, it won't take too long. Right now I have a large supply of clay smelting in the furnaces, and I don't have much else to do.

My garden on the roof, surrounded by glass and fenced in, quickly became the home to a healthy amount of wheat. Nothing extreme, but I couldn't think of a reason to make more room for further wheat production. I obtained the seeds for it from the tall grass jutting out of the ground around the area, which is very helpful. I figured out how to properly sow the land for use, by creating a stone hoe, and planted the seeds. I've supplied them with water, and they grow wonderfully. Wheat is used for making "bread," as it were, a baked confection of healing delight. Upon consumption, it relieves my pain and wounds, invigorating me. I have found that there are several things on this world to avoid very carefully: zombies, skeletons, spiders, and, by far the worst, creepers. I have run into each of these in the dark places of this world, being attacked on sight. I loathe the skeletons of this place, though; they have bows and arrows, and can strike me from a fair range without much issue on aim. They are excellent shots, and, unlike the limited range of the zombie and its arms, I have found that getting close to hit them is rough going. Spiders jump around like the blue-bloods of my world, jittery and hostile towards anything that rubs them the wrong way. Creepers… explode. They literally and simply explode, without even the slightest regret about doing so, wasting their own lives in a fiery blast of kamikaze sacrifice. They damage structures and ravage landscapes like no one's business. I do not even wish to think about them. I have avoided death up till now, but I do not want to test the limits of my mortality on this planet, and I feel that they are the most damaging threat, the most dangerous.

Oh my… these bricks are very warm. I like them. They're so rough but smooth… I wonder what you really must do with these, what sort of crafting they are a part of.

Oh never mind. A 2x2 formation of them creates a "brick," a full ensemble of bricks in a solid block, red with white cementation. Beautiful. I shall have to use these for something special.

Anyway, yes, monsters and things trying to kill me. In my latest endeavors, I have burrowed deeply into the first cave I ever created, so as to hide away from the night, and created a mine out of it. There are many hollows seemingly within the planet, all ever so slightly below the surface. Using these pre-existing shafts, I have gained much iron and material, including coal. I am not fond of gravel, however. Oftentimes I am digging through rock and find myself piled underneath a gluttonous supply of it, one of the few types of blocks that is actually affected by gravity, the other being sand. I am not fond of either, really, but more so gravel, since it only gets in the way, only sometimes dropping flint. I am not sure what flint is for entirely, but it is sharp and jagged, and therefore I regard it fondly. It is a black and sharp rock not unlike my home, and I love it for that very reason.

Guess what? That's all that's happened up to this point! That's right! So little, I know, but still. I'd rather get what little information I could out of the way before using this as an actual diary. Well… bah, still, you know what I mean. Not like anyone else is going to read this any time soon anyway.

In occurrence with today's events… I must say that nothing of particular consequence has occurred. I'm currently sitting on the beach I washed ashore on, writing in this collection of fine papers, and there is a pig near me. It wants my soup, but I'm not- whoops alright well he got that. It's irrelevant; I have more mushroom soup at home anyway. It's a truly delicious thing, really; a red mushroom and a brown one, along with wooden bowls, creates a glorious stew of vivid restoration. I can't really recall anything more scrumptious, not like I can recall much from before anyway.

It's awfully windy, I've noticed. The clouds are moving quickly today. I've been curious about what's truly beyond the horizon of this world… where all these clouds are going. I've touched them from atop the mountain near my home, but they are phantoms, ignoring my touch and everything about me. Besides the wind, it's awfully peaceful… I think I'll take a nap.

[]

I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes and sink into a slumber, I dream of… something entirely wretched. A world through an obsidian mirror wreathed in flames, an underground coated in dry, flaking rock, decaying stone draped with red moss and what smelled like sulphur and other gases. I could see myself there… but I could almost feel it. It's something grim, like a feeling of absolute decay and ruinous arcane mischief. I can't truly describe the sensation… but I think I'll head home for now.

Yes, this is much better. It's quiet… but it's peacefully so. Although… I can't shake this feeling of being watched. Despite the quiet, I sense a presence around here… something that is unaware of me as I am unaware of it. There's almost a voice along it, tracing like shadowed footsteps in echo…

It sounds like babble. I can't make it out, but it sounds as though someone is simply talking to themselves… And now it's gone. This world gets weirder by the day, I swear- PIG GO AWAY GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

-X

[]

10th

Rain today. It's a very odd rain; it starts instantly, then ends almost the same, abruptly and sharp. I've let this pig live with me, the same one from yesterday that ate my stew, followed me up onto my island, climbing the banks, and intruded upon the open hearth. Normally I'd cook him for dinner but his company is extremely relaxing and comforting; I can't bring myself to tearing my claws into his face… it's simply too stupid looking, far too daft for me to be angry. Besides, his flat, cubical body makes a good table. I like to put a torch on him.

I've named him Xoink.

-X

11th

Xoink and I went exploring today. He's rather appreciative of pumpkins, I've found. He finds them easily and likes to sleep on top of them. It's odd… but these flora have faces carved into them, almost as though done by a ragged claw, carved hollow and eaten out… Are there people here besides me? What manner of soul or beast would eat it out, carve a face, and then leave the rest? I don't understand, but I'm a little nervous about the idea of beings I have not met wandering around, doing things as they will.

Despite my hesitance to take the accursed vegetation, I could not disappoint Xoink. For the time being we are home, and he is sleeping next to me on top of his new pumpkin bed. Strange pig…

-X

12th – Midnight

I had a terrible dream. Right now I have everything lit up in my room, even a torch on top of my sleeping, faithful pig, bless him. I had a vision of others, other people, walking around my world like faded illusions. They opened the doors to my house and entered, eyes hollow as they stood around my bed. I woke up at that point… but I am too afraid to sleep again. I have blocked off the entrance to the lower floor with some cobblestone slabs, and I don't want to open it back up, not until the sun is up…

My pig is snoring. In lieu of my initial dread fear for these pig beasts, I am now appreciating their simple intelligence and lack of murder-frenzy. They don't shoot arrows at me or claw at my face with rotting hands or explode. I like them all the more because of the silly noises they make. And yes I am writing about these pink oink creatures to focus my mind on other things. I already feel better, tucked up in my sheets, but… looking outside from four stories up, the land is littered with horrid abominations, the clinking skeletons, too… How I loathe them.

Well Journal, I nearly just ripped you in two. Lightning. Rain and lightning now. Fantastic. My pig is now awake and in bed with me, terrified. I think I'm just going to use him as a pillow and go to sleep. His innards make comforting, gurgle noises. Good night.

-X

12th – Evening

It rained very hard last night. The small, 1x1x1 holes around the area have filled with water now, and the trees are glistening with the dampness still. Xoink likes the mud very much, I've found, and I've come to enjoy it too. It's very soothing and nice, cool and slick and protective… it's a pleasant sensation on my shell. We cleaned up in the ocean, although it was more like me cleaning both of us off, haha. I didn't really notice it until I was washing up, but the world is starting to change, slightly. Like this mud… I wasn't aware anything like that could exist, really. I don't remember it. This world seems to evolve… especially because the cobblestone, both in the world and in storage, looking different. It looks lighter, better, less busy… I'm not sure what this means.

Okay, Xoink just went up to bed. I should probably go to. I'll see you tomorrow.

-X

13th – Morning

Good news! I've found out how to create a "fishing rod!" I've discovered that, by combing sticks and string from spiders in a peculiar craft, it makes this rod of sorts…. Although I don't know what fishing is. I've tried hitting it against things, but it doesn't seem to do much. It has a hook and bobble on the end of the string, attached to the rod. What do I do with this?

-X

13th – Afternoon

I… have found something that makes my days infinitely better. Fishing is amazing. I love it so much. See, all you do is throw the hook into the water, wait, and a "raw fish" will be on the other end in no time! They're little aquatic creatures, swimming about in the water past my reach, but they must think hooks are food or something to that effect because… I have about ten in my stomach right now, haha. I've cooked them, and, although more vitalizing, I prefer them raw. The feeling of them sliding down your throat, squirming as they do… is just euphoric. I can feel them right now, wriggling around… I'll admit to the pleasure any day. This is glorious. I have found a new hobby, and even Xoink likes these fish. He only likes them if they're cooked, though… oh how strange this pink oink monster is.

-X


End file.
